After the morning court session concluded today, His Majesty the Emperor, unlike his usual practice of convening a small council, only had the Chief Eunuch of the Ceremonial Directorate, Song Tanglu, detain the Left Imperial Advisor Chen Wang. At the time, Chen Wang was about to descend the white jade steps alongside the head of the Chancellery, Huan Wen, but had to remain standing in place.
As the Left Imperial Advisor was a key minister of the central government, his position in what the common folk called the “Golden Luan Hall” was quite prominent. Thus, by the time Chen Wang stepped out of the grand hall after each court session, the officials outside would have long dispersed like a receding tide.
However, this morning’s court was unusually crowded with unfamiliar faces. Nobles such as the Duke of Yan, Gao Shizhi, and the Marquis of Huaiyang, Song Daoning, had gathered in large numbers, making the normally spacious hall feel cramped. As Chen Wang paused, people continued to brush past this undisputed “First Minister of the Xiangfu Era.” Even Song Daoning, known for his aloofness in the capital’s political circles, took the initiative to exchange a few pleasantries.
Several elderly ministers who had once served alongside the late Grand Preceptor of Western Chu and the former Left Chancellor of Liyang, Sun Xiji, were so warm and familiar that they treated Chen Wang like a son-in-law. Had it not been for the meaningful glances from Chief Eunuch Song Tanglu, these frail old men, who needed assistance even at home, might have stood there chatting with Minister Chen for half an hour.
Chen Wang stood with Song Tanglu, who was clad in a grand crimson python robe, as the hall gradually emptied. Despite his unparalleled closeness with the current emperor, Chen Wang refrained from asking the Chief Eunuch, the highest-ranking eunuch in Liyang, for an explanation, remaining silent instead. After a long pause, Song Tanglu finally spoke softly, “Minister Chen, please wait a moment longer.”
Chen Wang gave a noncommittal hum.
The python-robed eunuch, feared by the entire court, harbored no resentment at Chen Wang’s lukewarm response. Since taking over the Ceremonial Directorate from the infamous “Human Cat” Han Shengxuan, Song Tanglu had witnessed the transition of power in Liyang and had rarely felt genuine respect for any official. In his mind, Chen Wang, the Junior Guardian, ranked only after Qi Yanglong, Gu Jiantang, and Huan Wen, even surpassing Zhao Youling and Yin Maochun. The humble-born Chen Wang bore such a striking resemblance to a certain elder—both in personal integrity and career trajectory—that it was hard to feel envy or resentment toward him.
Lost in thought, Chen Wang was startled when someone tapped his shoulder. Turning, he smiled wryly and gave a slight bow.
The young emperor, not in his dragon robes but in casual attire that defied protocol, stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Chen Wang at the top of the steps. Song Tanglu had already retreated with silent, measured steps, making way for this pair of ruler and minister, destined to be remembered in history.
Spotting several eunuchs carrying a long ladder in the distance, Chen Wang couldn’t help but ask curiously, “Your Majesty, what is this for?”
The emperor grinned. “First, accompany me in waiting for someone.”
When the ladder was carefully placed against the Golden Luan Hall’s eaves, Chen Wang, now understanding, was both amused and exasperated, hesitating to speak. The young emperor pointed to two figures in the distance—one in a vermilion python robe, clearly a high-ranking eunuch, and the other dressed as an ordinary scholar. As they drew nearer, Chen Wang recognized them: the Eunuch Director of the Ceremonial Directorate, an elderly eunuch of great seniority, walking slightly ahead of the younger man, bowing slightly with one hand extended and the other holding his sleeve, as if guiding the latter. The younger man walked with small steps, his eyes closed.
As the Eunuch Director ascended the steps, Chen Wang faintly heard him say, “Master Lu, mind your step. We’re about to climb.”
The emperor turned with a smile. “Can you guess who this esteemed guest is?”
Chen Wang nodded. “Master Lu Xu of Qingzhou. The ‘Two Memorials and Thirteen Strategies’ submitted by the Prince of Jing’an at the end of the Yonghui Era were widely known in the capital to be his work, though he remained behind the scenes.”
The emperor suddenly grew somber. Lowering his voice while the others were still at a distance, he said, “Lu Xu is an immensely skilled chess player. I suspect even the two of us combined would be effortlessly dismantled by him.”
Chen Wang chuckled softly. “Then why not enlist the ten-dan chess sage Fan Changhou? Failing that, doesn’t Your Majesty have the young Supervisor of the Imperial Observatory to back us up? With the four of us, surely we can defeat Lu Xu. And if that still doesn’t work, there’s always Wu Congxian, who claims to have only lost to Fan Changhou. If all else fails, we can take turns, deliberately prolonging our moves to wear him down. He’s bound to make a mistake.”
The young emperor elbowed Chen Wang lightly in the ribs, laughing. “Bullying Master Lu for his blindness is one thing, but recruiting Fan Changhou as our strategist? And resorting to a war of attrition? Have we no shame?”
Chen Wang feigned innocence. “My face isn’t worth much anyway.”
The emperor raised his elbow again, and Chen Wang quickly sidestepped.
As the Eunuch Director led Lu Xu closer, the emperor descended the steps to meet them, taking Lu Xu’s hand with a smile. “Master Lu, I apologize for summoning you so abruptly.”
Lu Xu showed no trace of unease, replying calmly, “A pity I’m blind and cannot behold the grandeur of the palace.”
The bowing Eunuch Director’s eyelids twitched at the sight.
Once the young emperor and Lu Xu, still a commoner, reached the top of the steps, Chen Wang greeted Lu Xu warmly. “Chen Wang of the Chancellery, honored to meet you, Master Lu.”
Lu Xu bowed. “Lu Xu pays his respects to Minister Chen.”
Chen Wang accepted the gesture without demur.
That bow marked the first and last time Lu Xu would ever pay homage to a Liyang official from his arrival in the capital until his death.
Years later, when Lu Xu passed away quietly, Chief Minister Chen Wang stood in the desolate mourning hall, attended only by a white-haired old woman, and returned that bow.
The emperor turned to Song Tanglu and the Eunuch Director, his voice firm. “We are ascending the ladder. One of you will clear the area of all personnel, and the other will stand guard. Remember—within the time it takes an incense stick to burn, I want not a soul in sight within the palace grounds!”
The elderly Eunuch Director hurried off, knowing better than to compete with Song Tanglu for the privilege of guarding the ladder.
At the emperor’s unyielding insistence, Chen Wang climbed first, followed by Lu Xu, with the young emperor and Song Tanglu steadying the ladder on either side.
Song Tanglu did not look up, but from the corner of his eye, he glimpsed the young emperor gazing upward.
A ruler praised by court and commoners alike was holding a ladder for a young minister and a blind scholar. Above the emperor’s head were two pairs of boots.
Song Tanglu’s eyes suddenly grew moist.
Once the trio had ascended to the roof of the towering hall, the Chief Eunuch’s view was completely obscured. He dared not release the ladder but used his sleeve to discreetly wipe his eyes.
Chen Wang guided Lu Xu to sit near the ridge, leaving the central spot for the young emperor.
Zhao Zuan sat down and asked with a smile, “First time seeing the capital from here? Hah, same for me.”
I.
Deliberately or not, he had dropped the imperial “We.”
Zhao Zuan placed his hands on his knees, sitting upright as he gazed down the imperial avenue stretching southward. Slowly, he said, “When I was still the fourth prince, I heard that there were two towers in the world taller even than the Heavenly Platform of the Imperial Observatory in Tai’an City—the Moonless Tower on Huishan’s Great Snow Ridge and the Listening to the Tide Pavilion in Northern Liang. I’ve been to the Great Snow Ridge. It’s indeed towering. That woman, Xuanyuan Qingfeng, is formidable—she flatly refused me entry. You were with me then, Chen Wang. We were both turned away, so admitting this now makes me feel a bit better. No matter what happens in this world, sharing the burden with someone always lightens the load.”
Chen Wang smiled.
Zhao Zuan stretched and rolled his neck. “But I’ve never been to the Listening to the Tide Pavilion. I’d love to climb it one day. After all, my wife is from Northern Liang. No matter whom a woman marries, if the match is decent, she’ll always yearn to return home. It’s the same as how men say, ‘To return home in silks at night is to waste the finery.’ Though my wife never speaks of it, I can’t help but think of it. But now, with the court and Northern Liang at odds, not only has my father-in-law been viciously criticized in private letters by Northern Liang literati, but even my brother-in-law, who’s close friends with Xu Fengnian, couldn’t meet him last time he visited Cool Mountain. This time Xu Fengnian came to the capital, again to avoid suspicion, my brother-in-law didn’t even go to the Xi Ma Wei Posthouse. Truthfully, I wouldn’t have minded if they’d met. How could I? I owe the Yan family.”
Zhao Zuan rested his elbows on his knees, cupping his chin as he stared down the imperial avenue that seemed to stretch all the way to the southern sea. “The way of a minister is to follow rules. The way of a son is filial piety. But to me, whether as a minister or a son, one cannot escape the most fundamental way of being human—remembering the past, the good, and kindness. In Tai’an City, especially in this so-called Golden Luan Hall beneath us, what do we have the most of? Officials! Many are skilled at being officials, adept at navigating every situation, flawless in their conduct. But as for their ability to be decent human beings? I have my doubts. Yet, knowing full well the selfish motives of those inside and outside this hall, as long as they don’t harm the state, those of us on the throne—my father and I—usually turn a blind eye. ‘Water too clear breeds no fish,’ as they say. Sometimes we even lend them a hand. But that doesn’t mean we don’t find it tiresome. Day after day, year after year, hearing ‘Long live the Emperor’ and endless flattery—it’s truly tedious.”
Zhao Zuan suddenly laughed self-deprecatingly. “I’m not ashamed to admit this to you two—more than once, I’ve muttered ‘Rise, my ministers’ in my sleep. My wife never lets me hear the end of it.”
The blind Lu Xu tilted his head upward, savoring the gentle breeze and the mild sun, utterly at ease.
Chen Wang remarked suddenly, “Facing mountains of memorials every day is exhausting.”
Zhao Zuan sighed. “If you want to be a good emperor, there’s no rest. That’s the most draining part. As a child, I often complained to my mother about rarely seeing my father. Why must an emperor meet his son only a handful of times a year? Back then, I vowed to her that when I grew up, I wouldn’t be emperor. I’d spend all my time playing with my children, watching them grow, marry…”
Chen Wang sighed softly.
Zhao Zuan grinned, pointing southward. “I know there’s a world beyond the court—a martial world that’s been especially vibrant these past hundred years. First, there was Li Chungang of Green Hill, wielding his sword, then the Thirteen Champions of the Spring and Autumn Era. Later, Wang Xianzhi reigned supreme in Martial Emperor City. After Huang Longshi scattered the remnants of the eight fallen states into the martial world, top-tier masters sprouted like bamboo shoots after rain. Sometimes in recent years, I’ve wondered—if I weren’t a prince but a young man in the martial world, could I have made the Martial Rankings? Even if not as a first-rank master, surely I could’ve been a minor sect leader dominating a province? If nothing else, given my unshakable composure while reviewing memorials daily, I’d have made a name for myself, right?”
Lu Xu smiled. “Ordinary masters striving for fame in the martial world face challenges no less daunting than climbing the bureaucratic ladder.”
Zhao Zuan nodded. “So, if I were just Zhao Zuan, I’d truly envy Xu Fengnian.”
The young emperor paused for a long moment. “And admire him.”
Lu Xu said gently, “In a small alley called Yongzi Lane in Qingzhou, I once gambled at chess with the Prince of Northern Liang and won quite a bit from him. So I know that earning his regard is both difficult—few in this entire court qualify—and simple. A street vendor might catch his eye, and he’d treat them as a friend.”
Chen Wang laughed. “If not for the silver the Prince of Northern Liang paid for my poems, which funded my journey to the capital for the exams, I’d likely be a village schoolteacher in Northern Liang right now.”
Zhao Zuan said frankly, “So, if not for Xu Fengnian, the three of us wouldn’t be sitting here today. It might have taken me five, ten, even twenty or thirty years to have such a conversation with others. I must thank Xu Fengnian—and both of you.”
Lu Xu replied calmly, “Under another emperor, neither Minister Chen nor I would ever sit here. So there’s no need to thank us.”
The blind scholar’s implication was clear.
Unperturbed, Zhao Zuan said softly, “When the Xu family’s eight hundred cavalry rode straight into the capital’s heartland, I had them welcomed with an imperial edict and the Minister of Rites waiting at the city gates—because that’s what the 300,000 Northern Liang cavalry, guarding our borders, deserve. When Xu Fengnian fought his way through Xi Ma Wei Posthouse, drawing countless masters into epic battles that became legends of the martial world, I paid no heed—because that’s what he, as a grandmaster of Liyang’s martial arts, deserves. Before coming here, I heard he went to the Ministry of Rites in his princely python robes, not only beating Left Vice Minister Jin Lanting but even plucking the man’s beard. Still, I wasn’t angry—because he’s one of Liyang’s most powerful princes. I, Zhao Zuan, can yield another step. Even if he’d roughed up old Minister Sima Puhua, I’d have tolerated it. However far my father tolerated Xu Xiao, I’ll tolerate Xu Fengnian just as much, if not more. Because I sit on the throne, and he guards our borders for me.”
Zhao Zuan clenched his fists on his knees, narrowing his eyes. “But if he goes to the Imperial Observatory, to the sacred ground of the Zhao family’s rise, to destroy the accumulated efforts of countless people—that I cannot tolerate! I’d rather he came to the palace and cursed me to my face when no one was around.”
Zhao Zuan stood, turning toward the Imperial Observatory. “Liyang’s annual grain tribute to the capital exceeds eight million dan. Beyond what the capital requires, I originally planned to allocate one million dan annually to Northern Liang! On top of that, for every 150,000 Northern Desert soldiers killed or every 50,000 Northern Liang troops lost in battle, I’d grant another 500,000 dan! Since Gu Jiantang in the Two Liao Provinces isn’t killing enemies, as long as Northern Liang within Liyang’s borders does the killing, I’ll provide the funds and supplies!”
His expression hardened. “At the Imperial Observatory, Li Shouguo and Li Chang’an previously stationed 1,400 armored soldiers, 100 elite constables from the Ministry of Justice, 300 Imperial Guards, plus 1,200 cavalry now en route—3,000 men in total. Based on our earlier terms, Northern Liang now has over three million dan of grain tribute, plus rewards for kills and compensation for losses, all to be shipped via the Guangling River after Xu Fengnian leaves the capital. But today, for every man he kills at the Imperial Observatory, I’ll withhold 1,000 dan from Liyang’s reserves!”
Central Plains grain, buying Northern Desert heads—and Northern Liang lives.
Lu Xu remained impassive.
Chen Wang hesitated to speak.
The young man heading to the Imperial Observatory—was he Xu Xiao’s son, or Wu Su’s son? Superficially the same, yet profoundly different.
Was he the Prince of Northern Liang, lord of 300,000 iron cavalry, or the martial arts grandmaster Xu Fengnian? Superficially the same, yet profoundly different.
The young emperor, the only one standing, said calmly, “So if Xu Fengnian has what it takes to kill all 3,000, then let him.”
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